Fall of the House of Usher lets the real villains off the hook
17.10.2023 - 14:31
/ polygon.com
/ Stanley Kubrick
Mike Flanagan didn’t start his storytelling career on Netflix, but it is where he found his voice. Starting with The Haunting of Hill House, Flanagan has created, written, and directed increasingly personal and complicated series for the streaming service. Each show, from The Haunting of Bly Manor to Midnight Mass, is an exploration of an ensemble cast’s dark shadows through ghoulish jump scares and an endless string of monologues.
But while Flanagan has always excelled at using his characters to explore existential questions about death and faith,The Fall of the House of Usher, his latest and last series for Netflix, is his first real attempt to move beyond personal darkness and take on larger societal ills. It is his biggest, most ambitious show; it’s often even his most impressive. But it’s also far and away his worst.
[Ed. note: This story contains spoilers for The Fall of the House of Usher.]
An extremely loose adaptation of the Edgar Allan Poe short story, The Fall of the House of Usher follows the Usher family, most specifically the siblings at the head of it, Roderick (Bruce Greenwood) and Madeline (Mary McDonnell), as their family and pharmaceutical empire crumbles around them. Before their recent fall from the top, a scandal-filled week that also saw each of the family’s six heirs die tragically, the Ushers were one of the richest and most powerful families in the world, but also one of the most hated.
In typical Flanagan fashion, the story is told through a frame narrative: an aging Roderick Usher taking us through his own rise and fall, all with the death toll of about one Usher scion per episode.
If there’s one thing that Flanagan has proven in his previous four shows and two movies at Netflix (and his Doctor Sleep movie, which came in the middle of all of that), it’s that he’s a tremendously gifted craftsman and technician. Each of the Usher kids’ stories are told precisely and effectively, sowing seeds of their poetic demise early in the episode before paying them off in the end before a smash cut to the title card and credits.
Flanagan is a tremendous adapter of horror stories, but what he’s even better at is a sort of bibliographic quilting — combining pieces, elements, stories, and ideas from several works of an author and assembling them together into a beautiful pastiche. This is exactly what he did when he married Stephen King’s version of The Shining with Stanley Kubrick’s movie in Doctor Sleep, and what he slyly did in The Haunting of Hill House, where other Shirley Jackson allusions made their way into the story. But none of those were half so ambitious as weaving nearly every one of Poe’s short stories, poems, and other writings into one series. Each and every one of the